


The Three Day War

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-14
Updated: 2006-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-26 06:10:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10781181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: You've heard ofWar of the Worldsby HG Wells?  This is a story about a war of self-control.  Who will win Harry or Ron?





	The Three Day War

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Written for the lovely [](http://shocolate.livejournal.com/profile)[**shocolate**](http://shocolate.livejournal.com/) who never fails to make me smile, laugh, and generally want to be silly. I'm glad your back and healthy again. Thanks to [](http://simons-flower.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://simons-flower.livejournal.com/)**simons_flower** for the beta.  


* * *

Dear Diary,

Tonight Harry hacked me off and I told him no sex until he apologized. He told me I had no self-control and that I wouldn't last a day without sex. I can last much longer without sex than Harry. After all, I dated Hermione for two years. I think I know a little something about abstaining.

Then, then he went and added NO WANKING. He said I wouldn't make it a day without wanking either. Show me a bloke that doesn't wank at least once a day and I'll show you a picture of Professor Snape. _That's_ what happens when you don't know the pleasure of the flesh!

I've never been able to back down from a challenge and there was a challenge issued—so I made a wager.

If I win, Harry has to be my slave for a week and wear only his boxers. If **he** wins, I have to serve him breakfast in bed completely starkers for a week.

We cast a spell on each other that will indicate if one of us wanked. Merlin knows we'd only have sex with each other.

The Chosen One is going down—blimey I wish I hadn't thought that.

* * *

  
Dear Diary,

Day One:

Harry's trying to break me, I know he is. I came home tonight and he had all my favorites made for dinner: Shepherd’s pie, hot rolls, and strawberries with whipped cream for dessert. He's driving me mental! He served dinner in nothing but an apron! What kind of bloke cooks in nothing but an apron? He _claims_ he was hot in the kitchen but I know it was to tease me.

I was hard as a rock by the time we got to the strawberries. He was dipping them into the whipped cream, licking off the tip, then sucking the entire thing into his mouth. He had to know what he was doing to me but he managed to look completely innocent. He should have been sorted into Slytherin because the moment he moaned I actually came in my trousers like a fifteen year old.

I did get a bit of revenge after supper and after changing out of my stained trousers. I decided to polish my broomstick. I took my time, sliding my hand up and down the stick…oh did I mention I was eating a iced lolly at the time? I could feel Harry watching me and when I shrugged off my t-shirt I heard him whimper.

He won't break me. No fucking way will he break me. I'll come out on top.

Damn shouldn't have thought about that…about Harry under me, writhing, while I fuck him hard and fast bent over the arm of the sofa.

I reckon I need another cold shower.

* * *

  
Dear Diary,

Day Two:

I got a bit of payback tonight with Harry but I'm still hard as a rock from what he just did. He's teasing me, of course, and tempting me. It would be so easy to take my hand and wrap it around my cock. I would pretend it was Harry's hand on me, his hand slowly stroking the length of my shaft, before taking me into his mouth. I miss that…it's only been two days and I already miss the feeling of his wet mouth wrapped around my shaft. I miss the sounds he makes when I slide my tongue down his cleft and circle his hole. I miss the feeling of his cock throbbing in my hand.

Bugger! I'm so fucking hard that it hurts. Even the revenge I got from wearing my torn jeans doesn't help this situation. The look on Harry's face was priceless though when I took the ice and began connecting the freckles on my chest with it. When I ran it over my nipples he shifted in his seat and tried to focus on the telly.

I could see the bulge in his pajama bottoms when he shifted and I couldn’t miss the lust in his eyes when he followed a droplet of water from my nipple all the way to the waistband of my jeans.

I was feeling quite sure of myself until he got the ice cream. Chocolate ice cream. Bits lingered in the corner of his mouth and I just wanted to lick him clean. I could almost taste the chocolate on my tongue.

I want him so bad I hurt. I want to shag him, suck him, and feel his arse flex under my hand as I fuck him.

Blimey—we're not using much hot water this week.

* * *

  
Dear Diary,

Day Three: I lost the wager.

It really was an accident. I know, I know it's not like Harry fell on my cock. I mean I did drive it up and into his arse, but the circumstances were unusual.

I came home after a particularly hard Quidditch practice. I was muddy, sore, and had more than one bruise on my chest and stomach. Harry doesn't take my injuries lightly, not since the final battle when I was hospitalized for two weeks, and when I got home he checked my entire body.

No, no there wasn't anything remotely sexual about that! It wasn't that kind of examination!

He drew me a hot bath and basically forced me into it. I kept telling him I was fine, just a bit sore, but he was having none of it. He stripped me down and helped me into the tub. Still there was nothing remotely sexual about it—it was just Harry taking care of me.

I was fine, not aroused at all, the bath felt bloody brilliant, the jets working on my sore muscles. Harry sat perched on the edge of the tub, telling me about his day at the Ministry, and I laughed in all the appropriate places.

He leaned over me and grabbed the soap and that's the first time I noticed what he was wearing—a black turtle neck and black trousers. There are few things I find sexier than Harry wearing all black and I was grateful for the bubbles hiding my awakening cock.

He picked up the washcloth, soaped it, and began washing the mud from my face. His touch was so tender, almost as if he we was afraid I would break. He worked his way down my neck, washing away the dirt and grim, and his touch sent shiver racing up and down my spine.

I could smell his after-shave as he bent closer to wash my shoulders. When the washcloth slid over my chest, I let out a soft moan. My cock was hard, so hard already, but I kept my hands clenched on the sides of the tub.

He summoned and slowly poured water over my hair before reaching for the shampoo. I could see his glasses were steamed up and he was so close…so close that I wanted to say the hell with it and snog him senseless.

I couldn't give in though, could I? I would lose the bet. But then his hands, his hands were sliding through my hair, massaging shampoo into the strands, and I could feel his nails raking against my scalp. Merlin, it felt brilliant—so fucking good that I couldn't stand it. He rinsed my hair and the look in his eyes when he sat back up, the undisguised lust, was more than I could take.

I slid my hand around his bicep and pulled him hard. He lost his balance and fell into the tub with me. He sputtered for a moment, cursing about his wet clothing, and I snaked my hand around the back of his neck. I pulled his head towards mine, pulled him so close I could feel his breath against my lips, and I had to taste him.

I brought his lips to mine and slid my tongue along the seam. They parted and we both moaned as our tongues tangled together. My hands slid to his turtleneck and I released his lips to pull it over his head. My lips slid down his neck, to his nipple, and I tugged it hard between my teeth. He growled and I lost all sense of reason. My hands tugged at his trousers, tossing the wet fabric out of the tub and onto the floor, so I could take his cock in my hand.

He was muttering about the wager and, I'll be honest, I didn't bloody care about the wager. The only thing I cared about was driving my cock into his arse, feeling his cock in my hand, and when he straddled me I couldn't help but moan.

Our cocks brushed together, our hands tangled around our shafts, and the water allowed our bodies to slide together. He was moaning, begging me, and when his hands tangled in my hair and he told me to fuck him, what else could I do?

We had to use soap for lube and I quickly soaped my fingers. I slid two inside him, capturing his whimpers with my mouth, and when I worked a third in he told me to fuck him now. He wanted it hard and fast, said he want to ride me until we both came. I guided his hips over my cock and pressed against his pucker. He drove himself down and onto me, burying my cock to the hilt, and braced his hands on my shoulders.

Faster and faster we moved, water sloshed out of the tub and onto the floor, and his head was thrown back in pleasure. His fingers flexed on my shoulders and I was already on the edge…so close. I wanted him with me so I took his cock in my hand. I stroked him hard and fast in counterpoint to his movements up and down my shaft. Our moans mingled, bounced against the tile, and drowned out the rushing sound of the water spreading quickly over the floor of the loo.

He was cursing above me, telling me how good my cock felt inside him, and our lips met in a brutal kiss. I felt his cock pulse in my hand and I drew back as his face contorted in pleasure. Long streams of white landed on my chest, washed away quickly by the bathwater. When he clenched around me, I came with a hoarse shout.

It took a long time for us to recover and he told me he’d known I'd never last.

Somehow I don't mind a bit.

* * *

  
Dear Diary,

Today I served Harry breakfast in bed. He was disappointed I didn't serve sausage for breakfast. I was extremely pleased when he took my cock into his mouth after telling me he would serve himself.

 

_fini_   


* * *


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